


Fever

by scootsaboot



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 23:13:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6303931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scootsaboot/pseuds/scootsaboot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: A/B/O AU where heats tend to last a single night. Hyperion occasionally throws heat parties in their orgy rooms. Most omegas chemically induce early heats to participate but there are few who have theirs fall on those dates - Rhys is in the latter category. To his delight his entire night was monopolized by Handsome Jack and what's better is that everybody knows it.</p>
<p>Commissioned by katabaticwinding!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fever

Rhys can already feel the flush on his cheeks before he even enters the room; his heat is pressing down on him, making him sweat. He should have come earlier, he knows, but he’d spent the last hour debating it with himself. Heat parties aren’t really his thing. Rhys is more of a ‘find an nice alpha and take him home’ sort of guy, as opposed to a…’giant orgy’ guy, for lack of better words. He likes the one on one intimacy better, if only because he’s less likely to get fucked over, literally and figuratively, by anyone and everyone who could possibly find their way into a heat party.

His last visit had only happened through some mixture of curiosity, desperation, and a few shots of vodka. He wasn’t planning on coming back, but…the thought of _those_ hands on him again is enough to make him shiver.

He grimaces as he feels himself getting wet, but soon the door is opening and a tall beta is telling him he can go in. Rhys swallows thickly as he steps inside, immediately met with the overwhelming scent of omegas in heat, mixed with alpha musk.

The beds and couches scattered throughout the large room are certainly being put to good use, most with two or even three couples fucking, or one omega with several alpha’s attending to them. He inhales shakily, his arousal only growing stronger with the passing minutes.

Rhys makes his way through the room, bypassing alphas who eye him hungrily, in search of a familiar face. He pauses when he spots him, all stretched out on a plush, deep red couch, feet kicked up on the table before him. The man’s got two omegas on either side of him, pawing at his shirt, mouthing at his neck. He looks disinterested though, a glass of dark liquor pressed against his bottom lip. The man tilts the glass to drink, and that’s when his eyes meet Rhys’.

Jack’s gaze is just as dark and wanting as it was the first time, and Rhys lets out a small, involuntary whimper. He watches the man set his drink down and shrug off the omegas surrounding him, and when he steps into Rhys’ space, all broad shoulders and thick arms, he says:

“Wasn’t sure if you were gonna make it.”

Rhys’ head is cloudy now, stuffed with warm cotton, and he nods, breathes through his mouth. The lines around Jack’s eyes crinkle as he grins something fierce. “Didn’t get enough of this dick, huh babe?”

Rhys is still nodding, not sure if he knows how to stop anymore, “sure.” Jack’s fingers are warm as they grip his jaw, and his breath tickles Rhys’ ear as he leans in. He pressed his nose along the juncture of his neck, scenting him; Rhys goes weak in the knees and grabs at Jack’s arms.

Before he knows it, those arms are hefting him up and Jack’s carrying him across the tiled floor. People part like the red sea for Handsome Jack, and Rhys can feel eyes boring into him, full of awe and jealously alike.

Jack drops him unceremoniously onto a huge, royal purple sheeted bed, clearly meant only for use by Very Important People. He tries to sit up, but Jack wraps a hand around his ankle as he climbs onto the bed, and when the man hovers over him, Rhys forgets about being watched.

“Look at you,” Jack says, already tugging off Rhys’ jeans, “I could do whatever I want to you, couldn’t I pumpkin?” Rhys shivers as Jack undresses him, whimpers when those blunt fingers are pressed against his hole, wet with slick.

Jack slides two fingers in with ease and Rhys moans, gripping at the sheets beneath him.

“Please,” he breathes, half-delirious with want, “please please please.”

“You ask _so_ nicely. Look how wet you already are,” Jack grins and curls his fingers, pressing them against the spot that has Rhys shaking and curling his toes. Jack teases him for a few minutes, sliding a third finger in along the first two. His free hand moves to Rhys’ cock, hard and flushed red, curved against his thigh. Jack’s hand nearly covers it entirely, and when he presses his thumb against the tip, Rhys’ hips jerk up for more.

Jack wrings an orgasm out of him almost effortlessly, and Rhys’ breath stutters as it washes over him suddenly, pleasantly dulling his arousal, if only for a moment. He blearily looks up at Jack, who’s brought his hand to his mouth, and licks Rhys’ finish off of his skin, a predatory glint in his eyes.

Jack sits back and wipes his fingers on the sheets, before quickly stripping his clothes and tossing them aside carelessly. Once he’s naked, he returns to his spot between Rhys’ legs, his dick downright monstrous beside Rhys’. Jack grips Rhys’ thighs and forces the omega’s legs further apart, and Rhys can feel the blood rushing in his ears; he wants nothing more than that cock inside him, fucking him, filling him with a knot.

“ _Jack_ ,” he whines, high and needy, his heat starting to suffocate him again.

“Yeah,” Jack says gruffly, taking his cock in one hand, “yeah, I got you babe.” He presses the head up against Rhys’ entrance, wet and warm and inviting. Rhys bites down on his lip as the alpha presses in, almost painfully slow, and he moves his hips, trying to fuck himself onto Jack’s cock. Jack’s grip on his thighs is strong though and Rhys can’t do much else besides whine until Jack fills him up completely.

“God damn, you feel good princess,” Jack groans, sweat beading at his brow. He lets go of Rhys’ thighs to lean over him, caging him in; Jack slides his hand beneath Rhys’ knee and pulls his leg up to rest against his hip. He nips at the flesh of Rhys’ neck, and the omega keens loudly, and wraps his arms around Jack’s neck, tugging him closer.

Jack rolls his hips once, forcing a gasp out of Rhys, and finally starts to move. He pulls out halfway before fucking back into the omega’s tight heat, their skin slapping together loudly as he starts up a rhythm.

“Oh _god_ ,” Rhys murmurs deliriously, drowning in the sensations of Jack fucking him; the brush of his chest hair against Rhys’ own smooth skin, the firm hand gripping his knee, and the way he inches up the bed every time Jack drives into him.

“Jack’s fine,” the man snickers, before pressing his lips against Rhys’ neck and sucking hard. Before long, Jack’s forcing Rhys’ leg up further, resting it against his shoulder, and the new angle lets him thrust impossibly deeper, catching Rhys’ prostate and making him cry out.

He moves his free hand to Rhys’ cock again and starts to stroke him along with his thrusts; Rhys tosses his head back and moans Jack’s name. Jack curses as his hips stutter, and through his lust-addled brain, Rhys can feel the alpha’s knot start to swell inside him. His bites his lip and comes as Jack’s knot fills him, cum dribbling onto his stomach to join the mess already there.

“Fuck,” Jack hisses, a few strands of hair falling into his face as he fucks into Rhys, until his knot is too big to move. Rhys clings to him, feeling needy and unsatisfied, until Jack finally jerks his hips and comes, hot and heavy inside him. A secondary wave of pleasure washes over him, and he groans quietly, limbs feeling like jelly. He nuzzles his face against Jack’s jaw, a dopey smile spreading across his face. Jack’s careful as he slides Rhys’ leg off his shoulder and places it back down on the bed. He slides his hands beneath Rhys’ back and sits up, mindful of where their still joined. Rhys leans heavily against the older man, spent and exhausted, but his body rushing with endorphins.

“C’mon, drink up,” Jack says, pressing a cool glass of water to Rhys’ lips. He grins, “got a long night ahead of us.”


End file.
